


Lament for an Angel

by kinneybaby83



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 13:32:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1859814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneybaby83/pseuds/kinneybaby83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had seen statues like this; a monument to someone with an angel mourning, laying over the grave. She was probably beautifully sculpted at one time. Now, broken and discoloured. . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lament for an Angel

**Author's Note:**

> I just re-watched 'Blink', but thats the last one i saw. Dont know if this subject has been touched on or not or if any of it works with cannon... but i had to do it.  
> Its sad... its happy for deep people ;)

There had been a voice, he was sure of it. But as he entered the crypt, it was empty. Well, nothing living in there, anyway. One last check, though. He had heard something. He stopped short, pulling a face as he gasped. Dont blink dont blink dont blink... no. Maybe not. Ordinary statue... maybe. 

He had seen statues like this; an angel mourning, laying over the grave. She was probably beautifully sculpted at one time. Now, broken and discoloured. The wings were even broken off. No way it could be anything but a regular angel. But, werent these types of monument usually outside for all to see, not stuffed in a mausoleum? 

Quick test; if he blinked, it would move. If he did it fast enough it might not get close enough to him. Only on way to find out...

Nothing happened. He closed his eyes, stood for a moment, then opened them again. Nothing.  
Regular angel, nothing special. Moving along.

  

It wasnt till he had turned he heard it again. It wasnt so much a voice to be heard as it was actually in his head. 

"I am different. Wrong, somehow." Slowly he turned, and sure enough the statue had moved. It had turned its head to stare at him with sad, all to human eyes.

"But you are a...?" He didnt finish his sentance and continued to staire. Then he sighed, upset with his stupidity. It couldnt answer while he was looking. And, he felt 98% sure thatnif it wanted to kill him it would have done so already.

He turned back around, hoping it would respect his trust and pretty sure it had no reason to harm him.

"Yes," returned the voice, "but as i said... wrong".

"How are you 'wrong' then?" He wanted to turn. He wasnt used to conversations front to back.

"Too human. It may suprise you to know, Doctor, that you know just as much of our history as I." It was a strange . Almost as if it were the voices of every woman he had known rolled into one and... whispering. 

"For all I know, we have always been. And I have always been different." 

"How did you get here then?"

There was no reply . Curiosity, and admited aprehention, got the better of him. He turned to look at 'her' again. She had turned her head back in her arms and looked as if she were sobbing violently before he turned.

Slowly he turned again out of respect. Soon, the 'voice' returned.

"I am weary with my sighing; Every night I make my bed swim, I dissolve my couch with my tears!" 

He searched his brain, finally locating it. "Psalms 6?“

"You make me smile dispite my tears, Doctor. Yes. And I feel as the wwriter of it, David did. Alone. But not for long. I am dying." 

He didnt know hhow to feel, let alone how to respond. 

"Then i might finally join him."

Things clicked into place and he felt silly not having thought of it before. But, in his defence, it was insane. 

"The grave. You fell in love with a human." 

"You are clever, Doctor" 

Images came to his mind, were brought to him. 

A man rriding on horseback to the grave of his mother. 

Caressing the cheek of the angel standing over her grave with a gloved hand, as if he could sense the life. 

Months later, the man noticing the angel had moved to his garden.

Him reading in the garden under the angel. 

Watching his mariage,

Watching over his children.

The final quarl with the other angels.

Them coming in the night and ripping off a wing.

His neck had been snapped the same night.

Dragging herself to the crypt, convinced if she were away from the family, the others wwould leave them alone.

She had been here ever since. 

By the time the flashes of memory were done, he realised he had been crying. 

"I did love him. And as much as he could without understanding he loved me. I protected him as long as i could... so many years ago..." 

"But... you called me here for a reason. What do you need me for?" 

"I am dying Doctor. Im scared but i must. It may be only chance to be with him. Look at me; turn me to stone so it will not hurt. This is my request, though you are given no reason to honor it." 

He sighed. Another death. But this one he could at least make peaceful. 

"Thank you Doctor!"

Looking over her, he could tell she had detiriorated just in the time he had been there. He staried long and hard, willing her to die peacfully. As if he had a say iin the matter.

He watched as the body actually moved, sighed and sagged and he somehow kkne it wold move no more. The words echoed in his mind. 

Thank you, Doctor


End file.
